Man selects
only for his own good; Nature only for that of the being which she
tends. Every selected character is fully exercised by her; and the
being is placed under well-suited conditions of life. Man keeps the
natives of many climates in the same country; he seldom exercises each
selected character in some peculiar and fitting manner; he feeds a
long and a short beaked pigeon on the same food; he does not exercise
a long-backed or long-legged quadruped in any peculiar manner; he
exposes sheep with long and short wool to the same climate. He does
not allow the most vigorous males to struggle for the females. He does
not rigidly destroy all inferior animals, but protects during each
varying season, as far as lies in his power, all his productions. He
often begins his selection by some half-monstrous form; or at least by
some modification prominent enough to catch his eye, or to be plainly
useful to him. Under nature, the slightest difference of structure or
constitution may well turn the nicely-balanced scale in the struggle
for life, and so be preserved. How fleeting are the wishes and efforts
of man! how short his time! and consequently how poor will his
products be, compared with those accumulated by nature during whole
geological periods. Can we wonder, then, that nature's productions
should be far "truer" in character than man's productions; that they
should be infinitely better adapted to the most complex conditions of
life, and should plainly bear the stamp of far higher workmanship?

It may be said that natural selection is daily and hourly
scrutinising, throughout the world, every variation, even the
slightest; rejecting that which is bad, preserving and adding up all
that is good; silently and insensibly working, whenever and wherever
opportunity offers, at the improvement of each organic being in
relation to its organic and inorganic conditions of life. We see
nothing of these slow changes in progress, until the hand of time has
marked the long lapse of ages, and then so imperfect is our view into
long past geological ages, that we only see that the forms of life are
now different from what they formerly were.

Although natural selection can act only through and for the good of
each being, yet characters and structures, which we are apt to
consider as of very trifling importance, may thus be acted on. When we
see leaf-eating insects green, and bark-feeders mottled-grey; the
alpine ptarmigan white in winter, the red-grouse the colour of
heather, and the black-grouse that of peaty earth, we must believe
that these tints are of service to these birds and insects in
preserving them from danger. Grouse, if not destroyed at some period
of their lives, would increase in countless numbers; they are known to
suffer largely from birds of prey; and hawks are guided by eyesight to
their prey,--so much so, that on parts of the Continent persons are
warned not to keep white pigeons, as being the most liable to
destruction. Hence I can see no reason to doubt that natural selection
might be most effective in giving the proper colour to each kind of
grouse, and in keeping that colour, when once acquired, true and
constant. Nor ought we to think that the occasional destruction of an
animal of any particular colour would produce little effect: we should
remember how essential it is in a flock of white sheep to destroy
every lamb with the faintest trace of black. In plants the down on the
fruit and the colour of the flesh are considered by botanists as
characters of the most trifling importance: yet we hear from an
excellent horticulturist, Downing, that in the United States
smooth-skinned fruits suffer far more from a beetle, a curculio, than
those with down; that purple plums suffer far more from a certain
disease than yellow plums; whereas another disease attacks
yellow-fleshed peaches far more than those with other coloured flesh.
If, with all the aids of art, these slight differences make a great
difference in cultivating the several varieties, assuredly, in a state
of nature, where the trees would have to struggle with other trees and
with a host of enemies, such differences would effectually settle
which variety, whether a smooth or downy, a yellow or purple fleshed
fruit, should succeed.